


Out Among the Stars

by saisei



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Planet, Ancients (Stargate), Broken Bones, F/F, Female John Sheppard, Female Rodney McKay, Female Ronon Dex, Hurt/Comfort, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25955308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: When the jumper loses power on an unknown planet, Jon's team stumbles upon an abandoned Ancient facility. (Literally, in Jon's case.)
Relationships: Teyla Emmagan/John Sheppard
Kudos: 13
Collections: Rule 63 Exchange 2020





	Out Among the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minuseven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minuseven/gifts).



"But it was in the database," Meredith repeated, louder this time, clutching her tablet with one hand while she ran diagnostics.

"Yup," Jon agreed, still not really paying attention. Normally she'd try and get a rise out of Meredith by pointing out that neither she nor the Ancients who'd put together the database were infallible, but right now she was more concerned with getting the jumper operational. They'd been lucky: this planet's stargate stood in the center of a clearing, so when they'd exited the puddle and the jumper's power cut out they'd only fallen a meter or so to the ground. If it'd been at the top of a cliff – or in space – they'd have been screwed right up to the moment they died. On a planet with a breathable atmosphere, this was less of a crisis and more of a... setback. "So, Mer – is this like the planet with the kids? You think a ZPM did this?"

Meredith huffed, looking up from her tablet just long enough to give Jon a chilly glare. "I will tell you _when I know_ ," she said. " _Joanna_."

Jon raised her hands in surrender. She wasn't brave enough to tell Meredith to chill, not once they got into name-calling. She looked over at Ronon and Teyla. "I'm going to go check the area out. Teyla, you mind staying here and keeping Meredith safe?"

Teyla raised an eyebrow and gave a slow sideways nod that signified she'd do it but Jon'd just pissed her off. Jon didn't want to say out loud that she trusted Teyla more to wrangle Meredith in case anything went wrong – Ronon was still adjusting to being part of their team – so she just smiled back weakly and geared up. When they got back to Atlantis she'd make it up to her somehow. Maybe she'd let Teyla kick her ass with her bantos rods again, that always made her happy. And when Teyla was happy, Jon's heart did embarrassing little somersaults that were worth the bruises.

Once they were out of the jumper and it was locked, the best that could be done when the cloaking device wouldn't engage, Ronon huffed and gave Jon a look that was part-challenging, part-amused.

"You made them angry."

Jon sighed. "I sure did." She tested her compass: the needle moved, but who even knew if that meant anything on this planet, even without the possibility of an interfering electromagnetic field. Using the visual they had on the jumper in line with the stargate was probably the best way to establish a direction. Her instinct was to start walking straight along that line, but she'd picked Ronon. Might as well use her experience. "Which way do you think we should go?"

"You're the leader," Ronon said. After a beat, she added, "I'll tell you when you fuck up."

Jon could feel a headache coming on. She walked around to the front of the jumper and stood with it at her back, testing the life-signs detector and making sure Meredith and Teyla could hear her over the radio.

Which probably ruled out some kind of electromagnetic interference, but what did she know. She wasn't a physicist. She rolled her shoulders back, and moved forward from the grassy clearing into the woods, one hand resting on her P90.

Behind her, Ronon moved silently, in a way that made Jon feel critiqued for being clumsy and probably missing a ton of clues about what kind of a planet this was. All she saw were dense trees tall enough to leave the ground in dappled shadows, and rocks hiding under decaying leaves and moss, giving it that classic summer-camp smell. She bit her tongue to stop from saying that the planet, like so many others, looked a hell of a lot like Canada.

Ronon wouldn't appreciate the joke the way Meredith would.

"Looks like there's water over there." Ronon stopped in place, and when Jon turned back she pointed off to the left. "We should go check it out. See if anyone lives here."

"Maybe we'll make some helpful new friends," Jon said. Ronon gave her a look that implied optimism was stupid. "You never know, it could happen."

"Probably not." But Ronon got out her spray chalk and started tagging trees so they'd be able to find their way back to the gate, which was good. Resourceful. Jon radioed Meredith for a progress report and to pick her brain about what exact goodies the database had promised they'd find here.

"Stuff," Meredith said. Jon could hear the eyeroll in her tone. "The Ancients weren't exactly specific. But there was a research facility here, so hopefully either a ZPM or – you know – life-saving knowledge." 

That was helpful. "Right," Jon said, and ended the call.

The woods thinned out as they made their way down a gentle slope toward the water. Jon couldn't see yet whether it was a lake or a river. Maybe an ocean, who knew. The reminders of camps she'd been shipped off to as a kid intensified. At least now she had a friend with her. They could roast marshmallows and braid each other's hair... or not. Ronon'd probably stab her if she messed with her locs, and Jon kept her hair hacked short enough for her cowlicks to take over the styling. Maybe Ronon could give her a cool tattoo instead.

Jon found it easier to learn about Teyla and her people because Teyla didn't mind volunteering information on her own, making up for Jon's clumsiness with words. But Ronon didn't bring up stuff much, and Jon didn't know if she'd offend Ronon or drag up bad memories if she asked about her tattoos or her hair or her family or the military she'd belonged to before her planet fell to the Wraith. So mostly she kept quiet, which was probably the wrong call, too.

The trees thinned and gave way to a grassy verge which ended abruptly, dropping down a meter or two to a narrow pebbly shore. The water was wide and moved sluggishly, and Jon could see the far shore as a smudged shadow. She took out her binoculars and looked: more of the same shoreline, more of the same trees, all the way around. No houses or boats or threads of campfire smoke rising into the sky.

"Looks like they get some storms around here," Ronon said, gesturing at the wood washed up on the beach and the mostly-submerged logs in the water.

"I don't see anything manmade."

Ronon shrugged, then tossed her hair back. "I want to see the east end. The way the water's moving reminds me of the dams we had back home."

Jon liked that idea. Meredith would be pleased if it turned out that the Ancients had built some kind of power plant, and maybe that would solve the mystery of the powered-off jumper as well. Plus, there was no way they could get lost following the shoreline.

She started to have regrets about five minutes into the walk. There were swarms of insects that got all up in her face, and no birds or lizards or any other creatures around to eat the little buzzing bastards. She tied her bandanna over her nose and mouth when they tried to get into her sinuses and throat, and wished she'd brought a spare for Ronon, who was waving the bugs away stoically.

Another ten minutes of being assaulted by midges and they made it to a slight ridge which afforded a stunning panoramic view. Something big had hit the planet, like an asteroid or a bomb, and left a vast crater. All along the rim, rivers spilled down in twisting waterfall ribbons, rainbows dancing in the mist when they struck outcroppings of rock. And what Jon would estimate as a good half of the rivers she could see were dammed, releasing their water through spillgates in a massive feat of engineering.

"You think your Ancients made this?" Ronon asked after staring in awe for a long moment.

"Whoever did knew what they were doing. Hopefully, they left behind more than ruins."

Ronon gave her a grin, for a moment looking about as happy as Jon had ever seen her.

"Race you," she said, and how could Jon say no?

The ground beneath her boots felt good, soft and springy, unlike the corridors of Atlantis. The sun was warm, but there was a cool breeze coming off the water, and the promise of exciting things waiting to be discovered. She was going to lose to Ronon, of course, but winning hadn't ever really been a possibility. She was just glad to be here, in this moment, on a world impossibly away from Earth.

Her right foot came down hard, but found nothing.

A moment later she was falling, sliding down into darkness and unable to get a hold on the slick walls or brace herself, and then the sound of her leg snapping was louder than Ronon's shouting.

For one dissociated moment Jon was a kid again and was being berated for disappointing her father – always clumsy, never looking where she was leaping, causing more trouble than she was worth – and then she slammed back into her body, which was ablaze with agony. She didn't want to move, but she had to, feeling out the walls around her. They formed a cylinder about as big around as the back door to the jumper, a tube or pipe of some kind, and coolly metallic. She'd fallen onto the debris that had washed into the pipe over the years, stones and jagged pieces of wood. The opening above her look like a wavering moon, and down where she was there was only twilight. She wedged herself tight against the wall, keeping her left leg locked and unwavering, and leaned forward to pull her right free from the tree branch that had ensnared her.

It hurt – holy _fuck_ did it hurt – but inch by inch she managed to work her boot loose and then carefully lift her leg up, and over, and then down to the ground. She felt the edges of broken bone grate together at that final jarring impact, and twisted her face to the side, pressing her cheek to the cold wall and panting to keep from throwing up. She might be down here for hours, and she refused to do so standing in the stench of her own sick.

"You dead or what?" she heard Ronon calling, her voice distorted by echoes and nearly impossible to hear over Jon's own loud gasping breaths. "Sheppard."

Jon reached for her earpiece, but wasn't surprised to find it gone, like the handkerchief she'd had over her face and her earlier exeuberance. "What?" she called back. She sounded stuffed up, like she'd been crying, and the effort to raise her voice made her dizzy.

"Report." Ronon sounded pissed off, and Jon pictured her in an imagined Specialist uniform made out of leather and adorned with insignia, terrifying the hell out of new recruits.

"Broken leg." Jon hadn't even checked to see if she had other injuries. For all she knew she was bloody from head to toe; the inferno of pain radiating up from her leg was enough to obscure anything else. "Call Teyla?"

"Ahead of you," Ronon said. "Don't worry."

Jon coughed, as close to a laugh as she could manage. "The situation must suck if you're telling me that."

The brightness above was occulted for a moment as Ronon peered down the tube. "We're not under attack, and we still have the jumper. Could be worse."

"Come down here and say that to my face," Jon snapped, and a second later realized Ronon might not get that she didn't mean it. "Shit. No. Stay there."

Ronon huffed, amused. "Not like Meredith could pull you up. I can, though."

"Arms of steel," Jon agreed. She wished Ronon could just whisk her up and away like Supergirl. She'd tried explaining Crisis on Infinite Earths to Teyla once. It hadn't gone well. She hoped she'd left out that Supergirl died.

"You feeling cold?" Ronon asked. She sat back, out of Jon's view again. "Chills, numbness, hard to think straight?"

Jon appreciated the thought, but even if she was going into shock, neither of them could do anything about it. Plus, she was so warm she was starting to break out in an uncomfortably clammy sweat. And letting her thoughts stray to the pain was a bad idea, like one of those Sims swimming pools that you couldn't get out of, so you drowned.

She was fine, was her point, and she told Ronon to stop worrying. Looking for distraction, she tried to pick out the stuff that was down here with her. The lighting sucked, but it seemed to be mostly litter deposited by storms. Nothing useful, like tools. Assuming she was in a vent of some kind, she ran her hands over the walls, sweeping an arc around her head, looking for an access ladder or any kind of opening. If it was a vent, that meant there had to be an airway. Might have been a well, though there wasn't any water down here (and they were right by a lake, who'd bother digging a well?).

Or maybe it was a missile launch tube, or an elevator shaft, or an art installation that had once made a stunning commentary on a pressing social issue in Ancient times.

She wasn't about to try hopping around, because she would barf, but she managed to shuffle slowly to the side by shifting her weight from heel to toes and back again. Her right leg still hurt like a wildfire, but it didn't seem to jar as badly as before, due to how it was swelling.

To drag her thoughts away again, she examined this new part of the wall, and then did her little dance step to the side. She figured she'd only be able to cover a couple of meters before the rubble on the floor got in her way, but she was trying to be a good little interplanetary explorer.

Her outstretched right hand found a slight gap which ran up to a height a bit over her head, and then made a 90-degree turn off away from her. In the other direction, it seemed to go down to the floor.

The light cut out again, and this time when she looked up her whole team was peering down at her.

"What did you fall in a hole for?" Meredith asked. She sounded furious, like Jon made trouble to antagonize her.

"Hey, Mer." Jon waved and tried to smile. "Found a door down here."

"Teyla's coming down," Ronon said, cutting off a splutter of questions from Meredith. "Don't let the rope hit you in the head."

Jon hoped she was joking, but she covered her head anyway until she saw the end of the rope slither down to pool on the floor. She almost asked Teyla to be careful, but shut her mouth on the words as she watched her graceful descent. Teyla held the rope in place with her ankles and walked herself down with a fluid hand-over-hand that left Jon feeling dizzy with... admiration, respect, lust, some frustrating mix of all those things. 

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a pit like this?" Jon said when Teyla alighted.

Teyla gave her a look that said she very much didn't appreciate a smartass, but then she stepped forward and placed her hands on Jon's shoulders. Jon lowered her forehead to Teyla's instinctively, stress flowing out of her so suddenly she had to cling, for a moment.

All those high-level people from Earth who worried that allowing Teyla to live in Atlantis was an alien takeover just waiting to happen had no clue what they were talking about. Jon'd trust her any day over them. She trusted Teyla with her life.

"You feel feverish," Teyla said, stepping back. She rested one hand on the side of Jon's neck, checking her pulse. "We'll fashion a harness, and then Ronon will pull you up."

Jon grimaced, looking up the line of the rope. "Or we could check out this door." She rapped it with her knuckles; the metal made a dull echoing thud. "I mean," she added, as Teyla's eyebrows rose in disbelieving impatience, "we'd still need to get the jumper working, try and turn off the energy disruption source, find a working DHD, whatever. Believe me, I want to get back to Atlantis more than anyone right now. Do you have a flashlight?"

Teyla sighed, and reached over to flick on Jon's light, then unclipped it from the D-ring on her uniform. Ooops. Jon'd forgotten she had that. "Show me."

Jon reached to the side and traced the frame of the door as best she could. Teyla followed the line of the seam with the light, and then paused. She bent to drag away some of the branches and rubble, and then circled the beam of light around something on the wall.

"Can you come here? Or shall I – ?" Teyla gestured toward Jon's leg with the light, and didn't look happy at what she saw.

Great, fine, no big deal. Jon wasn't that thrilled with her leg now, either. The pain pulsed with every beat of her heart, making it hard to hold on to ideas. "I can shimmy over there. Give me a sec."

She was sweating even worse once she made her way across the width of the doorway, which was pretty pathetic. But with Teyla pulling her arm around her shoulders to take some of her weight and keep her from swaying so hard she fell over, Jon could get a good look at what Teyla had found on the wall. Which hopefully would distract her from the intimacy of their position.

There was a panel inset about a meter and a half up from the floor, made of a metal slightly lighter than the wall, and with something in Ancient written along the bottom. Short of a miracle that dropped Daniel Jackson down this well, too, it might as well be gibberish.

Jon reached out and pressed her palm to it, thinking, _Come on, alien genes, work your magic._ A little bit of superstition never hurt anyone, especially not an atheist in a foxhole.

A moment later, the door slid smoothly up, and Jon had to bite her tongue to not blurt out something dumb about turning on everything she touched.

She was all set to go and explore, but Teyla insisted on conferring with Meredith and Ronon. Meredith said she and Ronon would search for an above-ground entrance, which sounded sensible but also meant she'd decided not to risk her neck and precious skull rope-climbing. Jon filched back her flashlight and looked around inside while Teyla made plans and gave orders.

The ghostly memory of a former commanding officer whispered _dereliction of duty_ in her head, but she didn't care.

Jon'd been around the block a few times with alien bases and ruins that turned out to be hostile, so she was relieved that the room looked like a storage facility. The walls to either side of the door were lined with shelves up to the ceiling, and each shelf was about a third full of round storage drums. She could imagine the shaft being used to raise and lower supplies; a mundane answer to her questions. There was another door on the opposite wall, which was hopeful, suggesting there was more down here than just some Ancient warehouse.

Teyla caught Jon's attention, or maybe she'd been trying to for a while. Jon tried to look like she was tracking.

"Let's go over there," Teyla said, gesturing toward the wall. She put her arm around Jon's waist, tucking herself firmly against her side. "Slowly."

"Can't do this fast," Jon said, and took a deep breath.

Hopping sucked, just like she'd known it would. She was glad that the break was below her knee, so at least she could raise her leg and keep from jarring her foot against the floor, but it hurt so bad she couldn't swear, her palms going slippery with sweat, her breath rubbing her throat raw, like sandpaper.

"Up now," Teyla said. 

Before Jon could formulate a good argument for why that was a terrible idea, Teyla had her turned around and gave her a boost up onto the nearest shelf. Jon yelped, but Teyla had a fist wrapped in the fabric of her cargo pants and was easing her leg up onto the shelf carefully.

"There," Teyla said, and pushed Jon down to lay flat. She slid her backpack off onto the shelf and opened it up. "I'm going to splint this now. Think about something else for a while."

"Easy for you to say." Jon watched Teyla take out one of Ronon's razor-sharp knives and began cutting away the leg of her trousers. "Teyla – "

"Shh," Teyla said.

Jon slid her hand to the side, curling her fingers around the edge of the shelf, and hung on. She resolved not to embarrass herself by swearing, begging, or screaming, but by the time Teyla was done her face was wet with tears and she felt utterly wrung out, as limp as spaghetti.

Teyla pushed the damp hair back off Jon's forehead, giving her a moment to get her composure back. Jon's body took a bit of convincing before she managed to persuade herself that she was a leader and didn't have time to laze around all day.

"I'm up," she said, using her hands to push herself into a sitting position. Teyla had done a good job of splinting her leg – no surprise; she was good at everything – with her spare uniform as cushioning and the padded splints and ace bandages from their first aid kit. Jon's leg was a nice solid bulk, immobilized from mid-thigh to her toes. She tried giving her toes a wiggle and they all worked, which she thought was a good sign. "Thanks. I guess it's time to hit the dance floor."

"I don't know how you are feeling if all you do is joke," Teyla said. She helped Jon roll to the side and lower her leg, her hands gentle yet strong as Jon slid clumsily to the floor. "We're on the same team. I'm here for you."

Jon leaned her butt against the shelf, less because she wanted to act nonchalant and more because her head was spinning. "I suck at asking for help." She shrugged. "I'm not in the habit of thinking people will stick their necks out for me. It blows me away that you do." Teyla still looked frustrated, and Jon didn't want that. "Do you have any water? And Advil?"

Teyla pulled a flask out of her backpack, and then a blister pack of pills from her uniform pocket. "These are from my personal supply," she said, popping two pills into her palm and holding them out for Jon to wash down with the shockingly cool water.

"I owe you," Jon said.

Teyla smiled, looking up at her with self-satisfaction. "Yes. I know you do." She took her flask back and stowed it, strapping her backpack on again and then moving in to offer herself as Jon's support.

Jon liked having her arm around Teyla's shoulders, and Teyla's arm around her waist. She could smell the Athosian herbal soap Teyla used to wash her hair, faintly like citrus. In any other circumstance, it'd be like a dream come true. Oh, well.

The inside door also opened with an ATA gene scanner, thankfully, and they found themselves in a corridor which lit up automatically. Both directions looked the same, but Jon had a good feeling about the left, so that was where they headed, at her slow, limping pace. They passed other doors, some of which opened and some which remained stubbornly locked. In keeping with their proximity to the storeroom, this area had machine rooms, a large kitchen, some kind of manufacturing system, possibly for clothes, and what looked like a shop, with aisles of displays neatly laid out.

Jon half-wanted to go inside and see what kind of stuff the Ancients – or whoever's base this was – spent their pennies on. She supposed her fundamental problem with all the Ancients she'd met was that nothing about Ascension sounded interesting to her. She didn't want to meditate away all her earthly desires, her personality and her responsibilities, and trade that for non-interference. The idea that at some point the Ancients might have needed mundane stuff like fingernail clippers or murder mysteries made them feel more real, somehow.

When they got the gate operational, Jon could send teams of anthropologists here. It'd be like Disneyland for them. But first things first.

The corridor ended at a set of double doors, and Jon swiped them open reflexively. She should probably be more cautious, but – 

If she was, maybe she'd never have seen the panorama before her.

The entire far wall of the great room was a single window, following the curve of the crater, three stories high at least. In front of the window water tumbled down in silent silver ribbons. Various work stations were arrayed on decks below them, but the view doubtless commanded attention from anywhere in the room.

Teyla seemed equally stunned, and Jon leaned against her surreptitiously. She felt this way in Atlantis, too, sometimes. A sense of incredible awe at beauty that transcended time, and joy that she could be a part of it.

Teyla finally drew a breath and stood straight, as if recalling herself to her duty. "You should sit down."

"I'm fine," Jon said, mouth moving in automatic denial, even though she had a vague feeling that she'd promised she'd do better. "It's just... a lot to take in."

"I wasn't expressing concern," Teyla said, but she gave Jon a squeeze to show she was joking. Mostly. With her free hand she pointed forward, down a grand staircase that reminded Jon of Atlantis. The stairs led to a platform, and in the center was a control chair. "The climb down might be too much for you."

"Not with your help," Jon said. She felt her face flush with embarrassment, but Teyla seemed pleased. "I'll probably be swearing by the time we get there, though."

"I'll teach you to curse in Athosian," Teyla offered. "Shall we go?"

Jon would honestly much rather just lie down on the nice cool floor and take a nap while everyone else did all the work, but somehow that didn't seem likely, so. Here she went, hopping down the Ancient staircase one step at a time, clinging equally hard to Teyla and to the handrail. She only swore when she banged her broken leg and her vision whited out, making her dizzy with pain. She wasn't sure how long it took to get to the bottom; way too long, probably. But when she reached the platform suspended in the center of the room, Teyla gently pried her fingers off the railing and pulled her into a hug, murmuring Athosian words that flowed over her, soothing and calming.

Jon was so tired. Despite how lovely it was here, she just wanted to go home, lie down, and sleep for days. She didn't want to let go of Teyla, but she needed to go speak firmly to the ghosts of the Ancients.

The chair was more-or-less the same model as in Atlantis, a bit too similar to a dentist's chair for Jon to ever completely relax while interfacing. It was even harder now, because her leg had to be propped up in a way that applied uncomfortable pressure. Teyla rubbed her shoulder as the chair tipped back, and Jon closed her eyes.

She remembered Meredith snapping at her _think about where we are in the solar system_ , and watching the room fill with holographic stars, every pinpoint of light a sign that her destiny had changed forever.

This chair had a different feel to it, like it was the basic model without fancy extra features. That was fine. Jon reached out for the jumper and Stargate related information first, and got flags alerting her to the fact that everything had been shut down when the Ancients left.

 _So turn it on again_ , she told the chair, and suddenly the room around them began to hum to life. Too late remembering what had happened in Atlantis, she hurriedly smacked off all the systems that seemed irrelevant, not wanting to drain all the power. _Jumpers_ , she reminded it. _Stargate._

The chair popped up schematics and alerts. Just like in Atlantis, arriving jumpers were supposed to transfer control from the pilot to the automatic system that would fly them safely to an open bay in the underground hanger. Their jumper had recognized the gate address and switched off pilot control, but the automatic transfer had dropped the ball. Or rather, their jumper.

Jon turned the automatic system on, and made a mental memo to tell Rodney to fix that: she had no desire to have her jumper putting anyone or anything else in control while she was flying it.

Belatedly, she realized Meredith and Ronon might be freaking out – well, Meredith – and asked the chair to radio them.

"Testing, testing," she said. "Where are you guys?"

"Where the hell are _you_?" Meredith's voice crackled, as if she was holding her mike up to her mouth, the better to direct her wrath right at Jon.

"We found a control chair," Jon explained. "You were taking a long time to get here." She paused a moment, her attention divided between the information flowing into her and the conversation. "I got the jumper working," she added.

"You sound drugged," Meredith told her. "Also, a whole welcoming center popped up out of the ground and Ronon nearly shot it. Tell me it's safe to go indoors, I'm being eaten alive out here."

"Meredith wouldn't be complaining if it'd been a wraith ship," Ronon said. She sounded like she was thinking of shooting Meredith.

Jon queried the chair about the popping-up welcome center thing, and then told Ronon it was probably safe and she could take the elevator down to the main level. It'd let them off on the long corridor, and then they could walk down and see the cool room she and Teyla had found.

"While you're doing that," Teyla said, "we'll contact Elizabeth and ask for Dr Carson to send a medical team."

"Ugh." Jon's thoughts felt syrupy, like she was falling asleep, but she knew she didn't like that idea.

"You break it, you buy it." Meredith said, a bit too much glee in her tone. "Try and find me a ZPM."

The radio cut out in a wash of blessed silence, and Jon tried not to think about ZPMs at all. She just wanted to rest, and not pay attention to the pings of data from the chair about energy and research and hydroelectric dams and manufacturing sites.

Teyla's hand pressed against her forehead, shockingly cool, the touch pulling Jon out of the trancelike haze of knowledge. "You don't need to worry about that now."

"I'm showing off," Jon told her. 

Teyla's eyes shone with amusement. "Then I am impressed, as I'm sure was your intent."

Jon grinned, her usual inhibition about looking dorky vaporized by the warmth of Teyla's approval. "I like you," she blurted out. Teyla's gaze softened. "No, I mean, _like_ like you. The bad way that'd get my ass fired and sent back to Earth. I'm not going to do anything," she added, because now Teyla looked concerned. "You don't need to worry. I just kind of... wanted to tell you."

"A secret," Teyla said, head cocked as if trying to solve a puzzle.

"I'm sorry."

Teyla leaned in, touching her forehead to Jon's. "I'm not. I like you as well – even those parts of you your people do not value. Especially those, perhaps." She poked the back of Jon's hand. "Is that why Meredith was so angry about Chaya Sar?"

Jon hoped she was teasing. "She'd miss my genes if I got kicked out." Teyla poked her again, harder; definitely a threat. "She's my best friend, and she knows how much I love – " Jon raised her hand, catching Teyla's in her own, and gestured widely. "Pegasus. The people here. The jumpers. The magic. She thinks anyone'd be crazy to give it up for some relationship."

Teyla shrugged. "That's what makes us different from these Ancients. They chose to abandon human connections and emotions for knowledge, and I don't forgive them for it. They were selfish. Your people can be as well."

Jon grimaced. "Yeah. Sorry about that, too."

"But you try." Teyla raised her head to give Jon a challenging look, and then leaned in to brush her lips over Jon's own. Jon barely had time to decide whether that was a kiss – probably – and if she should kiss back before Teyla straightened. She looked as if she'd beaten Jon in sparring. "Perhaps this is also something you could try. When you are back on your feet again, of course. Right now we need to contact Atlantis."

"I would love that," Jon said, clinging to that promise and the feel of Teyla's lips against her own with a ferocity that forced all the pain to the back burner. "I promise our next date will be better."

"We'll see." Teyla brushed Jon's hair back from her forehead. "The radio, Jon."

Jon knew better than to ignore her orders, but she let herself doze off while Teyla explained the situation to Elizabeth. The jumper falling, the hole in the ground, the Ancient base, the waterfalls. Jon let the words wash over her and blend with the effervescent pings of information from the chair, and thought she wouldn't trade her happiness right now for all the ZPMs in the galaxy.

**Author's Note:**

> For my assigned recipient, minuseven. I haven't written SGA for years, so I was nervous about it being the fandom we matched on, but it was fun revisiting the characters and the adventures in Pegasus.
> 
> Written for the prompts, "F!John Sheppard/Teyla Emmagan, Always a 63, No specific prompt. More SGA is just plain good to see. Although, if it could be set in Pegasus, it would be preferable."


End file.
